


Water

by starcunning



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Love Confessions, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Post-MSQ, Shadowbringers Spoilers, Shasiverse, just like the very most FEATHER-LIGHT touch of femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 06:24:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcunning/pseuds/starcunning
Summary: “I have so many things I want to say to you,” she began. “But I don’t know how … I don’t even know what order to go in.”“There are things I should tell you, too,” Thancred murmured, looking out into the night.“It must seem like a lifetime ago, the last time we …” Shasi began, but could not finish.“Like it happened on another world,” Thancred laughed.





	Water

There was something about swimming that left one’s limbs feeling heavy in the aftermath. Much of it, Shasi considered, could be ascribed to the heat of the sun and the physical exertion of swimming, but it had been sunset when she had gone to the pool, and she had not even really swum, but for a single lap. Still, something in her was weary.

She did not stop, though, at the door to her own apartments, only wandered the halls of the Pendants, feeling gravity exert its will upon her once more and listening to the quiet rush of the river that wound like a ribbon through the central hall. The doors were all alike, and the rooms behind of a muchness as well, differing mainly in who resided there. She knew where she was going, much as she might have liked to pretend she did not.

Shasi paused, brushing her damp hair back from her brow, and lifted her hand to knock.

The door opened a moment later, and her surprise was reflected in Thancred’s expression as he stared out at her.  
“X’shasi,” he said. “Is something wrong?”  
It was a fair question, she supposed, swallowing. She had not much come to him on the First but in times of adversity—to ask something of him, or to simply see him after his injuries, when her throat was far too tight to speak as she might have longed to. “No,” she said, feeling foolish, her gaze dropping.  
“Would you like to come in?” he said, stepping back from the door.  
She nodded, following after, plucking at the drape of her pareo. Her swimsuit was not quite dry, so she did not sit, only stood in the middle of the little room. “Is Ryne home?” she asked a moment later, flicking her gaze aside toward the door that joined Thancred’s suite to the one next door.  
“No,” Thancred said, “she’s at the tower. Aetherology lessons.”  
Shasi flicked an ear, momentary dismay overwhelming a deeper relief. It was not, of course, that she disliked Ryne, but it was well to know they were at no risk of interruption, at least for a while. “When is she due back?”  
Thancred shook his head. “I believe the schoolchildren of the Crystarium were having a sleepover in the orrery spire.”  
“So not ‘til morning,” Shasi said. “It’s good for her to have friends her own age.”  
Thancred only nodded once, though his eyes narrowed a moment, as though he might read what she was about if he only looked a little harder. Then he turned away, crossing to the niche opposite the door to open the frosted glass windows.

The night outside was deep, velvety blue, the last light of day barely staining the horizon—just enough that she could make out more distant Lakeland peaks. It was not yet dark enough for stars to emerge, and the moon cast the Crystarium’s shadow down the mountains that surrounded. The windowbox was planted with delicate blooms, just begun to open to the night air. A year ago, Shasi knew, they would not have been viable, and she wondered for a moment how they survived when the hardier plants that had decorated her windowsill had long since withered.

Thancred perched on the cushioned bench beside the window, glancing back at her. “Would you care to sit with me,” he said, “and tell me what this is all about?”  
“My suit’s still wet,” she protested.  
He only shook his head. “That worries me less than other things,” Thancred said.

It was more of an effort than she imagined to get herself to cross the room and sit beside him. She laid one arm along the iron rail beneath the window, leaning into it and regarding him opposite. His white jacket hung beside the door, and his gunbreaker’s armor was elsewhere, but the discipline had wrought some changes in his physique; his shoulders seemed too broad beneath his white tunic. Still, it had been almost two years since she’d had occasion to know, so perhaps her memory was fallible.

He said nothing, only looked back at her, and for a moment she wondered if she looked as different to his eye. She must; there was little disguising the terrible scar from the rent in her chest, dressed as she was, but perhaps mere politesse had stilled the Scions’ tongues on the matter.

“I have so many things I want to say to you,” she began. “But I don’t know how … I don’t even know what order to go in.”  
“There are things I should tell you, too,” Thancred murmured, looking out into the night.  
“It must seem like a lifetime ago, the last time we …” Shasi began, but could not finish.  
“Like it happened on another world,” Thancred laughed.  
Shasi smiled, but it felt watery. “I suppose it’s different, since you can’t go home,” she said. Then she cleared her throat. “Zenos is back,” she said.  
“I know,” Thancred replied.  
“It’s not as though I was endeavoring to keep it a secret,” Shasi admitted, “since Feo Ul was shuttling reports back and forth from him and Estinien to keep me abreast of things in Garlemald. Being the only one who can travel between the worlds, I felt like … I had to be responsible for both.”  
“You never got to explaining how he came to walk among the living once more,” Thancred said.  
“Oh,” she said. “Much the same as an Ascian, I imagine. The Echo-blessed are … haven’t you ever seen me walk away from things that should have killed me?” Shasi wondered, rubbing at her breastbone, where that scar terminated. “I should talk about it with Urianger … but he’s back, though it was Elidibus, of course, that stole away with his _body._ ” She lifted her eyes to Thancred’s own, finding him looking back at her. “That’s not why I mention it. This … isn’t a briefing, Thancred,” she said. She felt exposed then, and not simply because of the night breeze that ghosted over her bare shoulders. “Zenos and I have a history, as you already know.”  
“Ah,” Thancred said, glancing away again. “And you have resumed your regime.”  
“No,” Shasi blurted. “I can’t prove it,” she said; “he only came back after all of you were called away, but … well, Jaela could tell you.”  
“I didn’t realize you and V’jaela were such good friends,” Thancred said.  
Shasi’s ears dropped a moment. “Only because of what happened to you,” she said softly. “She was helping me try to find out what was responsible. I hardly thought to pursue ‘G’raha Tia awakened in the future and inexpertly tried to summon me across time and space’ as a theory.” Her shoulders tensed with every word, her hands balled into fists in her lap. “She let me stay with her a while. While I was meeting with the Thaumaturges’ Guild and the like. Making inquiries. And we went to the Ruby Sea together—the Firebird met Suzaku. Zenos came later,” she said. “But she could tell you … that I refused … to betray you.” It felt so stupid to say it out loud, and she only looked down at her tightly curled fists.  
“Betray me,” Thancred repeated, soft and thoughtful.  
“I know that there was no agreement—no expectation that we remain exclusive,” Shasi said, “but knowing that in theory is a bit different from taking up with the Crown Prince of Garlemald the moment he turns up again, or sleeping with your best friend—although we did share a bed in the most mundane sense.”

“And if I had betrayed you,” Thancred said, “what then?”  
Shasi furrowed her brow, lifting her head. “I don’t think that’s likely,” she said.  
“I was here for two years before the others arrived. We didn’t know if or when you would be coming; the Exarch would try, and fail, and refine his technique, and begin again. I only have one real skill, and matters between here and Eulmore were not friendly for some time before I arrived, so I went back to work,” Thancred began. He tapped his fingers against the rail, as though something about the telling made him nervous. “At least, I think that’s what I told myself I was doing.”  
Shasi hunched her shoulders, aware of the coolness of the night. The warm light of the room did not reach Thancred’s eyes anymore with his face turned out toward the darkness. “What _were_ you doing?” she asked.  
“Befriending every drunk in the Crystarium,” he said, and punctuated it with a brittle bout of laughter. “I told you I only had the one skill. Do you know the best way to befriend a drunkard?” he asked. A moment later, he continued, “You drink with him. So that’s what I filled my days with. As fine a pursuit as any, I supposed. I was trapped in a dying world. Nowhere to go. No one to live for. And the Wandering Stairs are never far …” He trailed off, clearing his throat a moment later. Thancred turned his head to look at her. “His name was Hal,” he said.  
“What?” Shasi only blinked at him.  
“The man I took up with,” Thancred said. His shoulders were tense, and he looked away again after a moment. “Hal.”  
“Who was he?” she asked, still trying to put it all together.  
“He was from Twine,” Thancred said. “A miner, or used to be. He couldn’t tell me anything useful, but that wasn’t what we were for, just …” He sighed. “We were just … killing time in a world with no future. Trying not to die alone.” A shake of his head. “Anyway. Until I heard about Minfilia, that was. I left for Eulmore without a word to anyone. They couldn’t know I was coming. I didn’t find … what I expected,” he admitted, “but at least I had something. Some kind of something. She could fight the sin eaters, and that was around the time that Urianger and Y’shtola arrived, and if you weren’t coming …”  
Shasi glanced away a moment, scanning the room over with idle interest. She said nothing, only let her gaze wander over his table, his stove, the rack of shelves in the corner.  
“It didn’t exactly leave me a lot of time to drink myself to sleep with my boyfriend,” Thancred said. “Even if he had forgiven me for disappearing.”  
Shasi didn’t look back at him just yet, only nodded once to herself. She resolved to stop by her house, when next she had the opportunity, and clear it out. Assuming, of course …

She cleared her throat, turning her face back toward Thancred. “It’s good that you weren’t alone,” she said. “I wouldn’t want that for you.”  
“It wasn’t healthy,” he muttered.  
“Then I’m glad it’s over, but … betrayed is a strong word.” Shasi lifted a hand, brushing back her hair with a sigh. “When I got here, the first thing I did was demanded to know where you all were, and when the _Exarch_ ,” she muttered, “told me you had been stranded here for years … I felt so weak.” She closed her eyes on the confession, not certain she could bear to watch his expression change. “I was so afraid for you, and all I could think of was how much whatever was happening had _hurt._ I thought perhaps it was the Ascians … you first because they had claimed you once before, and then the two people likeliest to help me find an answer … by the time Alphinaud was brought back to our care I didn’t think so anymore, but I didn’t know what to think. I … wasn’t thinking anymore, I was just moving through my days by rote, like … like someone else had to do it for me. But it was only a handful of moons, wasn’t it? Coming here was like waking up, because I knew you would be here, but finding out that you’d all endured so much longer alone …”  
She felt a warmth upon her shoulder. A moment later it slid down over her bicep, and Thancred’s fingers trailed over her forearm until at last his hand fit to hers.

“I don’t find that so hard to forgive,” he said.  
“And I’m not certain you’ve done anything that needs forgiveness,” Shasi murmured. “Well … not from me, in any case, although I was angry about the way you had treated Ryne for a long time.”  
He shook his head. “So am I,” he admitted. “Shasi,” he said a moment later. She leaned forward a bit, as though drawn in by that gesture of informality, of intimacy. “Forgive me if this sounds callous, but … I already knew the greater portion of this,” he said. “I knew you weren’t exactly monogamous—that _we_ weren’t exactly monogamous—and about the history … and feelings … between you and Zenos yae Galvus. It was, as you said, not exactly a secret among us that Zenos was alive—and in your employ.”  
“The Scions’,” Shasi said.  
“Really,” Thancred murmured. “Is it Tataru he answers to, or only to you?”  
Shasi sighed. “I take your point. I am trying … to direct him appropriately,” she said. “He was a great help in the Eureka expedition, and it’s not as though anyone else knows Garlemald better.”  
“I thought this wasn’t a briefing,” Thancred said, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in a smirk. “Best we keep matters separate, don’t you think?”  
That implied there were matters to separate, and that thought lifted her gaze to his. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I’m not the only one someone’s carrying a torch for,” she said.  
“Are you trying to shuffle me off?” Thancred asked a moment later, but there was something brittle about his smile.  
“No,” Shasi said, “just informing you of your options. Vita’ya likes you. I’m quite certain that Jaela’s in love with you, actually.”  
He laughed, his expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Why are you telling me this now, if not to pass the baton?”  
“Because I don’t know what we’re doing,” Shasi said, grasping his fingers more tightly for a moment. “Eventually—sooner, I would have to hope, rather than later—we’ll all return to the Source, and I don’t know what we’re doing then either.”  
“Do we have to know?” he wondered.

“I had all these expectations,” she said. “What I would do when I saw you again. I thought that I could simply run to you, embrace you; I hadn’t planned on seeing you for the first time fleeing from a battle into a faerieland.”  
Thancred smiled. “I thought I would never see you again. Or feared to, I suppose. Why didn’t you do that?” he asked.  
“It never felt right,” she said. “I never felt sure. I was waiting for this perfect moment. I think I was waiting for us both to wake up, back at the Rising Stones. It was so much easier, in a way, to know what to do like that. Living is messy,” she said. “As Urianger never fails to remind me.”  
“The perfect moment,” he murmured. “For what?”  
“To tell you all this,” Shasi said. “And … something else besides, before my courage deserts me.” Her throat felt dry, and her hand trembled in Thancred’s grasp. “I must have said it half a hundred times back on the Source, like it was a magic spell. But … you wouldn’t hear, I knew. Or thought, so …”  
He pressed her hand between both of his own, clasping it so gently, but said nothing, even when she looked up at him.  
“I wished only to tell you,” she said, tears trembling at the edge of her vision, “that I love you, Thancred.”  
He clutched her hand to his chest, and she swore she could feel a heartbeat. The Scions, she had been told, were little more than ghosts—spirits she could see and touch—but he seemed real enough then.

And more real still when he leaned in to kiss her, his breath warm upon her cheek. She threw her arms around him, shuddering with relief, and he held her close. “I love you, too,” he murmured, and then he was kissing her again, the desperation of years apart surging through her.

His hands slid upward over the curve of her back, and she turned, folding one leg up beneath her on the bench seat so that she could lean into him. His skin was warm, his hair soft where it just barely tickled at her arms. She unwound them, her fingers skimming from the nape of his neck forward to cup his jaw, cradling his face delicately in her hands. She wanted to laugh, the sound half-muffled by his lips as she kissed him, tasting the salt of his skin.

“You’re always laughing,” he murmured, turning his head so that his lips grazed her scarred cheek. “When we’re alone.”  
“Sorry,” she said, kissing at the corner of his mouth.  
“It’s not a complaint,” Thancred told her, peppering kisses over her neck and shoulder.  
She sighed, her fingers sliding through his pale hair. “I’m just … relieved.”  
“Mm.” He lifted his head, and she pressed her palm to his cheek, turning his mouth back to hers for another kiss. “I know the feeling.” He ran his hands over her back, tracing its curve until his hands rested on her hips. “Stay … with me,” he said, something faltering in his tone. “At least for the night. In the morning you can join Ryne and I for breakfast after I pick her up.”  
She froze, and he must have felt it, too, because he skimmed a hand over her side as though to coax the tension from her.  
“If you have other obligations …”  
“I want to, Thancred,” she said softly, and with her hands cradling his face she lifted his mouth to hers.  
“Stay,” he begged her.  
All her laughter transmuted to weeping, and her lips trembled against his, her eyes pressed shut to guard against the tears—relief, longing, the sorrow of a parting not yet come to pass—that she could not let fall. “I’m not going anywhere,” she told him.

His sigh of relief hummed against her lips as she turned her head, kissing at the crimson of his tattoos. He unwound his arms from around her, and she felt him tense and shift, and found him kneeling atop the bench seat. Shasi straddled his thigh, one hand grasping his shoulder to steady herself, and he curled an arm about her once more, leaning back slightly to brace himself on his other hand. Her tail batted at his knee, her pareo riding up her thigh as he slid his hand over the curve of her hip, pulling her in against him. Shasi slipped her hand up his neck, her fingers catching briefly on the woven cords of his choker, and she put her thumb under his chin to tip his head back, kissing along his jaw and nipping at his earlobe. His hand pressed against the small of her back, pulling her body to his.

He was warm in contrast to the cool air, even through his tunic, but that wasn’t enough for her anymore. After a moment she drew back, his hand slipping over the curve of her hip and resting lightly upon her thigh as she settled atop his leg. She let her nails trail over the fabric, down over his chest and stomach, and he seemed to grasp her intent, sitting up and lifting his arms, reaching down to grasp the linen at the nape of his neck. He helped her strip him and tossed the garment aside carelessly.

He looked nothing like she remembered. She could feel the knit of her brow as she looked him over—bereft the scars she recalled and blazoned with new ones. Shasi touched his stomach, just below the ribcage, where there should have been a scar to match the one she bore in the selfsame place; she ran her fingers down over his forearm, where the fractal-like fissures of a lightning scar should have been.

It was as though he had never taken the wounds she had dealt him in the Praetorium, and that was strange enough. Stranger still was the fact that she missed them, in a curious way. Guilt surged through her—it was perverse, she knew, to long for a reminder of such a harrowing time, and yet that still seemed better than to look upon him and find no familiar landmark.

“You look different,” she said.  
“I know,” Thancred replied. “It’s a funny thing … we still need to eat and sleep; we still bleed. But when we came here, it was as though our bodies were made new. I did the same thing, you know.”  
“I should have guessed,” she said, “when you had your vision back.”  
“Miss the blindfold, do you?” he laughed.  
“A bit,” she admitted, glancing away.  
“So do I.” He reached up to touch her cheek, skimming his thumb over her scar. “When we make it back I’ll have to adjust to having a blind spot all over again.”  
“And,” she pointed out, conjuring up a sly smile she only half-felt, “it did make you look appropriately roguish.”  
“Well, I hope my charms without it are sufficient,” Thancred laughed.  
“More than,” Shasi murmured, turning her face toward him to steal a gentle kiss. “Besides, it’s not as though I couldn’t blindfold you here, if I wanted.”  
“You very much could.” He nodded, nuzzling against her with the movement.

There was a temptation to do just that; to close away from his sight the new scars she bore. Still, he had seen most of them already. Even then he was looking at her, at the slash across her chest, the scar yet more red than the skin around it. She too turned her gaze downward—it was a clean cut, as straight and regular as the scar upon her cheek, but the aether put behind the blow had bloomed beneath her skin, haloing it with irregularity. Of her ordeal with the Lightwardens there was no outward trace, but she swore she could still feel something cracked within her, so obviously that he had to be able to see that, too.

Thancred said nothing, only leaned in to put his lips to her skin, blessedly warm and tremblingly reverent. He tipped his chin upward, kissing at the hollow of her throat, the side of her neck, the curve of her jaw. The sensation anchored her once more in the present, and she allowed herself to simply revel in his attention, running her fingers through his shaggy hair.

Feeling much more present, and much more sure of her control, she said, “Why don’t we go to bed?”  
“I would very much like that,” Thancred said. He unwound his arms from around her and leaned backward, bracing himself on both hands. She too slipped away from him, but before she let him withdraw completely, laid a hand upon his thigh and leaned in, over him, to steal one last kiss. Then she let him stand and watched him turn away, looking over the muscles of his back.

She should feel lucky, she decided. There were few enough opportunities to rediscover a place one thought they knew. The First had offered them up in abundance, from the moment she realized that Lakeland was the Mor Dhona she had never gotten to see before the death of Midgardsormr had remade it. And now Thancred, too, had seen a transformative hand laid upon him, and she would map him anew.

He turned back to find her still sitting there, and offered up his hand. She took it and stood, stepping in to wrap him in her arms once more, kissing at his chest. Despite all expectation, she could hear the beating of his heart, and an ache surged through her.

“I missed you so much,” she confessed.  
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, bowing his head to kiss at the crown of her head. Her ear flicked reflexively at the touch of his cheek, and he laughed.  
Half-tangled up in one another, they retreated to his bedside, and she drew away to regard him once more. “Why don’t you finish getting undressed,” she suggested, fumbling blindly with the knot of her pareo. She cast it aside a moment later, letting it flutter over the ladder back of the chair set before a desk. Her sandals were simple enough to kick off, too, but she did no more after that, and watched him instead.

He didn’t have far to go, but it was still a delight to watch him flick open his button fly with deft efficiency, slipping his fingers inside the waist of his leggings just behind his hips, thumbs hooked over the band. He parted leather from skin with a slow slide of his hands, forcing it down over the curve of his ass, trailing fingers over his thighs until his leggings dropped past his knees and he stepped out of them.

Gods, he was gorgeous; she wondered for a moment if she had erred, for she longed to trace the same pathways of his touch. But nothing was stopping her, she realized, and stepped in to wrap her arms around him once more, pulling his body against hers, her hands laid over the curve of his ass. She could feel his length pressed against her, and he shifted to grind it against the slope of her hip. She smiled to herself—at last, things felt familiar. She ran her nails lightly over his skin, from the backs of his thighs upward over his ass and to the small of his back.

“Shall I undress you?” he asked, brushing her hair out of her face, though it fell against her brow once more a moment later.  
She reached up to press her palm to the back of his hand, clasping it to her cheek. He traced the curve of her lips with his thumb. “If you like,” she said.  
He did not attempt to pull his hand away from her then, but skimmed the other up over her side, fumbling with the ties of her top. He loosed them a moment later, molding one hand to the curve of her breast, her skin still damp and more alive to sensation for it. Shasi let go of his wrist after a moment to curl her hand about his neck and skim it upwards, petting his hair all backward and pulling his mouth down for another kiss. He slipped his arms around her, his hands palming her ass beneath her tanga, and then he stripped that from her too. “Let me kiss you,” Thancred said against her lips, and she laughed.  
“It’s only an appropriate greeting,” she said.

Stepping out of the tanga that had fallen around her ankles, she perched on the edge of the bed. Then she thought better of it, scooting backward and swinging her legs up to recline, letting her head fall against the pillows. The sheets were worn soft and everything smelled faintly of his skin, so that he seemed near to her even as he climbed onto the bed on all fours, kissing her—from the top of that scar to the bottom, and on the wound upon her solar plexus, now missing its twin, down over her stomach.

She should have felt exposed; nobody had seen her like this in nearly two years, and she had not exactly planned for this encounter. She had hoped, of course, but perhaps only Urianger’s intervention had seen her far enough for that. But those hazel eyes looked up the line of her body, fixed upon her face, and she saw there his joy. He was smiling, and it was so genuine that she could not help but think of all the times it was not—when he, too, put on a brave face for the sake of the Scions. Rather than say so, she smiled back at him, stretching her arms out and arching her back as she settled into his bed.

His hands found her hips, her knees bent and thighs parted. The tuft of hair on her tail, still damp, trailed over his chest as it twitched with anticipation. As he settled, tthough, she swept her tail aside so that it laid against the side of his chest, not quite tickling him. He kissed her thighs, pulling her leg up over his shoulder, and she skimmed a hand over her collarbone, fingers brushing at her throat. She could feel the heat of his breath and the intensity of his gaze as he leaned down and laved his tongue over her. He was so warm, and a tremulous little cry escaped her just at that. He smiled, drawing back just for a moment to look upon her face, and she reached down to cup her mound, stroking at her vulva with two fingers. He kissed her knuckles like she was a queen, and then he licked her top to bottom once more and molded his lips to her clit.

She could feel his weight shift and settle atop the bed as he licked her, his fingers pressing against the curve of her ass. She braced herself against the mattress and lifted her hips slightly, arching into that eager mouth. There was more strength in his arms, she noted, though he had never been weak; it was his power as much as her own that held her up for those long few moments. She reached out with one hand to pet at his hair, tousling it between her fingers. His tongue swirled over her clit, sucking her into his mouth, and she closed her eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by sensation.

Shasi relaxed after a moment, melting back into the bed, and he laid wholly against it too. She could see his thighs tense and his back arch; he rolled his hips to grind against the mattress and the soft sheets. “Stop,” she said, teasing and breathless.  
He froze, lifting his head to look up at her. His tongue swiped over his lips, as though he could not bear to be bereft of the taste of her.  
“I promise I will not leave you so unsatisfied,” she laughed. “Touch me, Thancred.”  
He murmured some acknowledgment, and she pulled his head back down against her.

She let her head fall back and her eyes close as he unwrapped one arm from around her, stroking her labia lightly, almost teasingly, and then he pressed his fingers into her—palm-up, the way she liked, stroking and tapping at her frontal wall. It had been _how long_? And he still remembered that? A sigh escaped her, blustery and contented.

It had begun to rain. She could hear it pattering against the soil in the flowerpots and the still-closed windows. She might have shivered, but Thancred pressed his lips to the apex of her folds once more, and all she could feel was the heat of him, the flick of his tongue against her eager clit. She grit her teeth, as though that might help her hold on, but when she opened her eyes she was quite certain it was a lost cause.

There were worse things, Shasi told herself. There were much worse things than being in love—and while it was not by any means _uncomplicated,_ there was nothing at all unwelcome in it. Thancred was a good man, and beautiful, and at that very moment licking just to the side of her clit, as though he was _allowed_ to tease her like that—

“Thancred,” she whimpered, her hands knotting in his hair. She ground herself against his mouth, shifting and writhing until the sensation was just right, and it drew her up taut. His breath spilled hot over her thighs, his fingers stroking at her cunt. She bit back a guttural cry, arching and lifting herself, and she could feel her walls clench around him, waves of pleasure surging through her. She gripped him against her, riding the crest of her orgasm as long as she could, and then collapsed slack against the bed.

She took a deep breath and let it out as a lingering sigh, murmuring his name once more. He kissed her mound and laid his head against her hip, and when she looked down he was nursing the taste of her from his fingers. Shasi brushed his hair back from his cheek, tracing the shape of his ear, and then pushed herself to a sitting position.

“Come here,” she said, and he rose to his knees, shuffling toward her. His smile was sure, and she knew she had to be grinning back at him. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in against her, spilling him across the bed. He laughed with surprise as they went down, a tangle of limbs.

After a moment she lifted her weight from him just enough so that he could adjust, stretching across the bed, and she straddled his lap. Shasi reached out to touch his face, swiping her thumb over his lips. He opened his mouth a moment later to suck at the pad of her thumb until she drew her hand away so that she could brace her weight. Leaning over him she kissed those eager lips. Thancred— _her_ Thancred, even if only for an evening—put his hands to her thighs, skimming his palms upward over her legs to wrap his arms about her waist.

His mouth opened beneath her own so that she could kiss him deeply. They arched and settled against one another. She could feel his prick grind against her folds, and he groaned her half-formed name against her mouth.  
“Shasi,” he pleaded.  
“Mm?” Her tone was less airy than breathy; she could not even pretend at disinterest, not with him so close to her after so long.  
“Please,” he panted, “I want …”  
“To give yourself to me?” she purred, kissing at the corner of his mouth.  
“Yes.” The answer was barely more than a hot breath that skated over her cheek and fluttered through her hair. “I need you.”

She felt her heart surge. Shasi shifted her weight, lifting herself just enough to slip a hand between their bodies and take hold of the base of his cock. She teased herself with the head, rolling her hips shallowly, and then buried him in her, letting the motion press a moan from her.

Finally. Finally, after all they had seen and done they had ended up here again. She felt so overwhelmed by it for a long moment that all she could do was lay against his chest with him buried inside her, the rise and fall of their breathing shifting them minutely against one another.

She could feel her breath grow hot and damp against his neck, and she raked her teeth lightly over his sage’s tattoo, feeling his pulse against her tongue. His fingers pressed against her back, holding onto her so desperately that she didn’t dare move. She just laid there, feeling his warmth and his breath and the beat of his heart, listening to the rain.

As much as it was almost too much, it was also not enough, so when his grasp loosened as though he no longer feared she would disappear, she put her hands upon his shoulders and pushed herself more upright. She shifted her weight to her knees, letting her thumb graze the crimson sigil etched upon his skin. Her hand cupped his jaw, and her thumb pressed to his chin. Leaning down, she stole another light kiss, and lifted herself from him. Slowly, drawing out the moments of sensation, she began to ride him. His fingertips traced senseless patterns against her back and stroked at the base of her tail. His breath spilled over her lips, feathering through her hair.

She lifted her head to toss her hair, too breathless to smile, and his hands slid about to rest at her hips. He did not pull or press—she suspected he yet knew better—but ran his fingers over her skin. She sat back, shifting to feel the head of his cock press against her frontal wall, and fixed her eyes to his. How gorgeous he was to her, lost in sensation. Thancred lifted one hand to his brow, raking fingers through his hair, his eyes pressed shut.

He reached for her blindly as she rode him, his hands coming to her sides, slipping upward to pull her forward and himself a bit more upright. Shasi reached out and gripped the headboard and his lips brushed the curve of her breast. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it, and she whimpered. His breath rushed over her skin; she could feel him panting and hear him groan. He bent his knees, shifting her forward just slightly, and she could feel herself grind against him.

Shasi whimpered his name once more, drawing back. He looked up at her with desperate eyes, and she curled a hand about the base of his skull, dropping her head to press her forehead to his. She just smiled at him, and he threw his arms around her, pulling her back down against him. She liked it, the sliding of skin against skin, and laughter burbled up inside her, spilling out between her lips. He bent his knees and tensed himself beneath her, arching.

“It’s close,” he groaned.  
“Hold on for me,” Shasi said. She threw her arms out behind her, her hands finding purchase just above his knees. Thancred stretched his legs out again, and she leaned back, just past upright, bracing herself against his thighs. She could watch him squirm atop the bed, and he knotted his fingers in his hair once more, his shoulders arching, his arms outstretched, almost lifting him from the mattress. It was not anguish he felt to make him writhe so, she was sure, but she granted him a reprieve anyway: “Touch me,” she said.  
Thancred licked at his lips, parted then to gasp, and he lifted his hand to his mouth. It was her own bit of torment to watch him suck his thumb into that eager mouth, and the way his eyes fixed to hers made clear that he knew it. Perhaps he lingered over it longer than he needed to, or perhaps every second lingered a bit longer than it otherwise might when she was in the grip of so many things to feel.

He reached for her, skimming his hand over her stomach, her mound, parting her slick labia so that she could grind herself against his thumb. He rubbed her clit in a tightening circle, holding tight to her hip as she bucked against him. His neck was corded; his teeth were set.  
“Good,” she said, breathless. His answering whine told her all she needed to know. His free hand found her thigh, his nails biting into her skin. He was a wire primed to snap. “Thancred,” she panted. “Darling boy. Make me feel it.”  
He groaned, low and guttural, and her name chased that inchoate sound between his lips. Shasi pressed herself down against him, all her weight in her hands as she arched back. She could feel him throb inside her, and though his hands trembled against her he did not dare stop grinding his thumb against her.

It was enough to make her spend, throwing her head back to moan. Her chest heaved with every breath she took, every muscle in her body tense, trembling, almost overwhelmed. She could not hear the rain any longer, nor see anything; there was only the sweetness of release, and the satiated exhaustion that flooded into her after.

His hands were at her hips then, seeking to help hold her upright. She righted herself and then slumped forward, splaying herself across Thancred’s chest. She kissed at his skin, tasting salt, and he wrapped his arms around her.

“I love you,” she sighed, because damn the injunctions she had issued against herself, she _felt_ it.  
“I love you too,” Thancred murmured, burying his face against her hair. “When did you …?”  
She hummed thoughtfully. “A long … long time. After the Praetorium, I think, was the first time I noticed. I was just so happy … so glad to have been wrong, but I wished that I could help you with everything that came after that.”  
His fingers stroked at her shoulder. “Forgive me for being so slow to realize,” he said. “It was not until Dravania that I knew. Or … I knew in the Lifestream, as much as it was possible for me to exist and to know anything. I knew that I had to come back to you.”  
Shasi sighed, contented and exhausted. She shifted, letting him slip from her so that she could extend her legs, her tail draping over their entangled bodies. “We won’t always be together,” she said softly. “I might wish it so, but that’s foolish; there are places I go you cannot follow, and things you can do that I cannot. But … I think it means something, that we kept finding each other.”  
“I think it means that we kept looking for each other,” Thancred murmured.  
“Then … let’s always keep looking for each other,” Shasi said.  
“Let’s,” he agreed.

She shifted against him, snuggling and settling, catching at the sheet with her feet and kicking it up her legs so that she could grasp it and pull it up over them. With one ear she could hear the sound of the rain, and with the other, Thancred’s beating heart. It would be morning, she knew, sooner than she would like. Duty would come calling, and that too would come sooner than she might have hoped. But Thancred put his arms around her, and murmured one last _I love you,_ and Shasi was glad of the night she had brought back to the First.


End file.
